A Name For Strength
by RavenclawGenius517
Summary: Miss Meryl is a mute and is paralyzed from the waist down. She has been kept locked up her entire life, her existence known to no one from the outside world. She is about to give up hope when a Hogwarts letter addressed to her comes, and changes everything. Can she learn how to be apart of this new world? WARNING: Graphic Content
1. Prolouge

**Hey guys! This is my first fanfic! Please read and review but don't be too harsh!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters, which all belong to J.K. Rowling. I do own Miss Meryl.**

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The first blow comes to my face, on the left side, on my jaw. It stings and burns, and was powerful enough to knock me off my chair, sending me tumbling down the stairs and onto the ground, where I curl up into a tight ball, my eyes squeezed shut tightly, willing this unending nightmare to be over. The next blow lands just behind my shoulder, hitting the top of my shoulder blade. I curl up tighter. The next hits are to my side. They are from a boot-clad foot. I'm kicked again and again, until I'm sure my ribcage is about to burst, all the while I hear yelling from somewhere above me. I try not pay attention to it. I usually zone out when this happens. Which is pretty frequently. For example, right now, I'm only aware of two things: my existence, and my pain. The pain is never ending, which is why I'm so aware of it. There are times, like right now, when it gets worse. Physically. But really, my pain is always there mentally. I am trapped inside of myself. I am simply drifting along in the void of my unneeded existence. I am alive but I am not living. I am only surviving. But just barely.

I soon became vaguely aware of rough hands gripping me, unfurling me from my protective ball. The hands drag my shirt over my head, leaving me in my training bra. Reality soon starts making it's way back to my conscious thought, and I struggle against the hands as they flip me onto my back, my mouth forming pleas and cries but no sound coming out. A foot crushes me, holding me down. I hear the all too familiar sound of a belt being unlooped. Then comes a crack, then a sharp pain on my back, as my skin is ripped open. Again and again the crack of the belt bears down upon me, as hurtful words tear through my ears and into my mind. I have counted forty-two slices by the time it stops. I am left, bleeding and hurt, in the basement, and I hear sound of the lock being clicked into place before I slip into the peaceful abyss of sleep.


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters.**

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Hello. My name is Meryl. Or at least, that's my last name. I only know it because it's the same one as my father's, and I've heard it enough to learn it. But as far as I know, I don't have an actual name. Maybe I do. But I certainly don't know it. The name I'm mostly called is simply 'Girl', but I've been called much ruder, more demeaning things on multiple occasions. I've been told I'm not worthy of a name. Not worthy of a bed. Or proper clothing. Or enough food and water. Not worthy of a life.

I would describe to you how I look, but I'm afraid I hardly know that information myself. I know that my hair is a long, dark brown. I only know that because it stretches out below my waist, so I can see it without a mirror. I don't know much about my facial features. I've never been allowed to look in a mirror. Sometimes though, when I'm cleaning the dishes or floors or windows, I'll see my reflection. I think my eyes are green, but I'm not sure. From what I can tell, my cheeks are sunken into my face, causing my cheek bones to stick out. There always seems to be bags under my eyes. But I suppose that's what happens when you've never had enough to eat, or sleep. I'm lucky when I get nine hours of sleep. A week. My skin is deathly pale. Again, from the lack of food. And sunlight. I can't remember ever being outside. I'm not allowed out of the house. I don't know how old I am. I started marking the days about six years ago. I think I'm about ten. Maybe eleven. I don't know when my birthday is. A few years ago, I started sneaking books out of my father's library. I taught myself how to read and how to write. I've learned a lot about the world from those stolen books. The books give me a sense of purpose. But most of the time, they just make me feel sadder, because I'm learning about the world I can't be apart of. Father, of course, doesn't know about my reading and writing capabilities. And I'd like to keep it that way. And one more thing - I'm mute and paralyzed from the waist down. I think I was born mute, but maybe something happened when I was really little. I don't know. I just know that I have no memory of ever being able to make a sound. I do know that I was not born paralyzed. Something happened when I was really young, maybe four or five. I think I was pushed down the stairs to the basement, and landed on the wrong part of my neck. I guess I should consider myself lucky to be alive. It's sort of a miracle. For all I know, my father hasn't told anyone about me. So, technically speaking, I don't exist.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I'm still not J.K. Rowling, so Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.**

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I stir gently from my sleep, internally groaning from the soreness present everywhere in my body. I sit up, pushing myself up with my arms, wincing as I do so. I look down at my naked stomach, gently running a hand down my side, which has managed to turn a nauseating array of purples, blues, and blacks. My torso has raw skin wrapping around the edges on both sides. I delicately stretch my head back to get a better view of my back. It's a bloodied mess, with skin folding over on top of itself and giant welts that will eventually turn to scars on top of older ones. Slowly, I drape my shirt back over my head, and drag my body over to the light switch, flicking it upwards. A single light bulb slowly flickers on, illuminating the small basement in a dull yellow glow. I head for the door, but find that it's still locked. I know what this means. I'll be locked in here for a few days, probably without food. Maybe a cup or two of water if I'm lucky. There's no bathroom down here, but that's alright because I have a bucket in the corner to use in these situations. The smell is awful, but not toxic. The only bad thing is the cold. It's not necessarily cold right now, but it is in this basement, where everything is moldy and dusty. The nights are the worse. I have two ragged blankets, one of which is usually used for a pillow. But when it gets really cold, I sacrifice my pillow for a very small amount of extra warmth.

Sighing, I begin to drag myself back over to the blankets, using my arms to pull my lifeless legs behind me, when I stop. My wheelchair is down here with me. That's never happened before. My chair is always left at the top of the stairs. I'll climb down into the basement and am locked in, but never with my wheelchair. I always have to clamber back up the stairs to get to my chair. But if it's down here with me, then I don't know how I'm supposed to move around once I'm let out of here. There's no way I'd be able to get myself and my chair back up the stairs. Father must have known this. What was it he said last night? Something about me dying down here… Oh my gosh. He's gonna leave me down here until I die. He's come very close to killing me before on multiple occasions, but there's something about different about it this time. Something more driven, maybe out of fear. Or spite. Or hatred. But whatever it is, I feel very confident that my life is coming to an end.


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters all of which belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling**

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I've never understood why Father hated me so much. I'm certain I never did anything bad to him. I've only ever wanted for him to accept me, and love me. Maybe he hates me because of my mom. I'm told that she died giving birth to me. Or rather, that I'm the reason she died. I want to tell him that I'm sorry, that I didn't mean for her to die. But I can't. My voice was simply not meant to be heard.

But I don't think that's why Father hates me. I don't think he loved my mom very much. There's nothing that could possibly be hers in the entire house, and I know, because I've cleaned every nook and cranny countless times. It's like she died and Father just got rid of everything that was hers.

But, sometimes, there are things that happen to me. Strange, unexplainable things. Like once, when I had been locked in the basement for five days and had only had three cups of water, I was dying for food. Or water. Something to get me through one more day. And then, just like that, there was a bowl of warm soup and a glass of water in front of me. Thinking back on it later on, I had thought it was just some sort of hallucination, but then it happened again. A wheel on my wheelchair broke, and I knew it needed to be fixed, and then a new wheel just appeared on it. Father didn't see those.

The first strange thing he saw was the couch levitating when I needed to clean under it. He saw other things happen as the years went by. But when he saw that couch floating, it was like something in him had snapped. That is, if something already broken could possibly break anymore. He beat me more often. Starved me even more. I was never able to explain, to cry out that I didn't do it, or that I didn't mean to do it. 'It's like magic!' I would say, but even if I could speak, he wouldn't listen. Besides, Father has been very vocal in his disbelief of magic.

I've never understood why these things happen, and I almost wish they didn't. If they didn't, maybe Father would like me a little more. Well, more like hate me a little less.


	5. Chapter 4

**Thanks so much for the reviews! It really means a lot to me!**

 **Disclaimer: I'm still not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter still doesn't belong to me.**

I yawn tiredly, willing my eyes to stay open. It has been six days since I was thrown into the basement. Six days since I have eaten. One glass of water appeared on day 3, and I drank it slowly and deliberately, sparing it for as long as I could. But all too soon, it was gone. I've considered trying to get another glass to show up, but I'm so tired. Everything in me is exhausted. I don't have the strength to move from my wheelchair. Or the strength to lay down. I haven't slept in over fifty hours. At first, I didn't sleep because I was just too sore. On day four, Father came in and beat me again. I don't know why. Maybe he was hoping it would kill me sooner.

I know that I'm on the verge of dying. It's why I've been depriving myself of sleep for the past two days. I know that if I fall asleep now, it will all be over. I've spent most of my time sitting in my wheelchair, trying to remember all the things I've learned from the stolen books. Also, the stale air and lack of proper attention to the open wounds on my back is seeing to be problematic. They've been infected, badly. I've gotten quite ill from the infection.

Realistically, I don't know why I'm fighting so hard to stay alive. Maybe some part of me hopes that someone will come to my aid, or that Father will come to his senses. But deep down, I know that hoping is pointless. And yet I do it anyways. I suppose it's human instinct, to fight so hard for something that will eventually be lost to the inevitably of death anyway. To hope for something so impossible even when all logical reason denies the chance of it happening.

I've never been one to wish for the impossible. But now, as I sit on my deathbed, I pray to whatever god may be out there, wish to whatever star is shining, that someone will save me. I don't know what I would do, or where I would go, but I know, deep down, that I'm meant for greater things than dying in a stale basement on a dingy wheelchair in the dark.


	6. Chapter 5

**Sorry, I know this chapter is really short, but I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

Somewhere in the distance, I hear a door open. There are faint voices, two of them. One is Father's, but the other is different. It sounds softer, gentler, but stern. I wonder if this is what a female would sound like. I've never known a female besides myself, and I don't know what my voice sounds like. In a far off part of my mind, I wonder if she knows about me. If she's here to save me. But I'm so tired right now, that I can't focus on anything other than the voices.

The voices start rising, and I'm intrigued, but listening to them is taking up so much of my energy, and what little amount is left is being used to keep my eyes open.

But suddenly, sleep sounds really good. Like better than it ever has before. And I no longer see the reason in trying to stay awake. I don't know why I shouldn't just sleep if I'm so tired.

I start to close my eyes just as a burst of light appears underneath the door. I want to know what it was, but sleep is coming fast, enveloping me in it's arms like a warm blanket. I see the door burst open, the silhouette of a figure wrapped in a golden light, before I slip into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

I put on my muggle clothes and grab the letter off my desk before apparating to the destination addressed on the letter. I usually only visit students that are muggleborn, but there's something about this student that made me curious. None of her letters have been returned, or even opened for that matter, and I can tell because of a nifty little charm all letters have. Initially I thought there was a mistake when the letter was addressed, because there was no first initial to go along with the surname. Their address also said 'the basement', which is not typically a good sleeping place. I brushed these off at first. I mean, basements can be furnished and made to be perfectly good sleeping places.

I debated making this trip for many days. After all, this student is not a muggleborn. Her father is a muggle, but her mother's a witch. At first, I tried reaching out to the mom, as I had known her in her school days. But no response came. And then I realized how odd it was that the mother had never responded to any of the letters I had ever sent her over the past eleven years. So, I decided to go visit the girl, and see how her mother was doing.

I appeared with a small _pop_ on a desolate street. I walked up to the house where this girl and her family supposedly live. It was a small, run down two-story house that appeared to be falling apart. I walked up to the front door and knocked three times before stepping back to wait. A few minutes passed, and I was just about to knock again when the door swung open. A bulky man with a foul smelling bottle clutched in his hand stared down at me. He wore a white tank top and gym shorts, and his hair was unkempt and overgrown. "What do you want? I'm not interested in buying any crap from you people."

"Uh…" I say, not entirely certain of what he meant. Surely the brilliant girl I knew and taught could not have married such a rude man. It took me a minute to get over my initial confusion and realize what he meant. I shook my head, saying "No Mr. Meryl, I'm not a salesperson. My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I am a professor at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm actually here about your daughter."

His eyes widened, but just as quickly they were normal again. But not before I had noticed. "What are you talking about? I don't have a daughter," he said, clearly annoyed. I knew he was lying. But why would anyone lie about having a daughter?

"I'm sorry sir, but I have a letter addressed to your daughter who lives here," I explain, while pulling out the Hogwarts letter and showing it to him. He glared at the letter with a knowing and suspicious look. "If I could just step inside and we could discuss this like civilized people. I'm sure your wife has explained this all to you. In fact, I'd like to have a word with your wife, if she's around." I say while peeking around the frame of the door.

The man takes a swig from his bottle and leans closer to me. "Listen, I don't know who you think you are, but you have no right being here. My wife died years ago and I most certainly do not have a daughter. Now I must ask you to leave here at once!" his voice is low, menacing at first, but is raised loudly by the time he's done.

I drew in a sharp breath. She couldn't possibly have died. How could I have been so oblivious? I blink a few times and regain my composure. I quickly pull out my wand and do a non-verbal incantation of _homenum revelio._ The man is bathed in a soft golden light, but I can see a faint light shining just beyond, at the top of a staircase that appears to be going downwards. _The basement_ I think. I attempt to enter the house, but the man blocks my path. "I insist that you let me go." I'm cold, dangerous, but the man doesn't budge. I breath in, saying "I really am sorry about this. _Petrificus Totalus._ "

The man's arms and legs snap together, and I'm vaguely aware of the sound of glass breaking as he drops the bottle that was clutched in his hand. He falls back, and I make my way over to

the staircase.

I walk down the steps, stopping at the door. I turn the knob, but it's locked. " _Alohomora."_ It unlocks with a satisfying _clink_ , and I step in. I gasp at what I see. There is a girl, who is deathly pale and covered in blood and bruises. She's sitting in some sort of strange contraption. I rush over to her and pick her up, checking for a pulse. It's there, but just barely. I turn on the spot, apparating to the Hogwarts boundary. I run up the hill and to the infirmary, calling for Madame Pomfrey.


	8. Chapter 7

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 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter**

I feel… weird. I'm actually comfortable. I'm on a really soft mattress, like a cloud. I'm wrapped in warm, thick sheets, and it makes me feel safe. Is this what death is like? Because if it is, then I wish I died a long time ago. I never want to leave.

I start to slowly open my eyes, but I gasp and squeeze them shut once I'm blinded by an impossibly bright light. I hear footsteps near me, and I start to panic. I hear a _swish_ sound, and I can suddenly tell that the room I'm in has gotten much darker.

"Sorry about that. I don't know why I thought to open those curtains. Your eyes need much more time to adjust to all that light," said a kindly voice near me. I cautiously squint my eyes, and open them fully once I see that the room is considerably darker. I smile gratefully at the woman in front of me. Wait… woman. She's a woman! This is amazing! I've never met anyone else before. I must be in heaven or something. She's an angel!

The woman sees my expression go from grateful, to confused, to excited all in a matter of seconds. She chuckles slightly, giving me a sad, almost pitiful look before saying, "My name is Madam Pomfrey. I'm the medi-witch here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You were brought here about three days ago by Professor McGonagall. Your body sure did need all that sleep."

I listen to the lady, growing more and more bewildered as she went on. Witchcraft and Wizardry? I can't be a witch… magic isn't real. That's what Father always said. But… then again, that would explain all the strange things that happen around me. Suddenly, I have so many questions to ask. I look around for some sort of paper and pen to write with, but I don't see any. I look back at the woman, Madame Pomfrey, she said, who is watching me intently. I start to gesture to my throat, shaking my head back and forth. I then begin to pretend to write, using my left hand as a piece of paper, and my right as a pen. Madame Pomfrey seems to understand, as she nods her head. She pulls a stick out of her apron and waves it, saying some strange word. An old looking piece of paper, a bottle of ink, and a… quill… fly into her hand. My eyes widen, and she smiles at me. She hands me the paper, ink and quill. I start to write.

"Yes, I saw that you were mute when I ran a diagnostic scan. I also saw that you're…" she pauses, pulling out a piece of paper from another pocket in her apron. "Paralyzed. Now, I may be a medi-witch, but I'm going to have to be honest when I tell you that I'm not sure what it means to be paralyzed. It must be more of a muggle thing, I suppose. I also don't know a lot about you. Professor McGonagall didn't say much about you when she came in with you. She's been checking in on you everyday, you know. Wants to make sure you're doing all right. I think I'll go get her now. Oh, and when I come back, I'll have some potions that you'll need to take. You are terribly malnourished."

 _Muggle?_ I think to myself. I wonder what that means. I take my time writing an answer for her, making sure not to leave anything out. It's weird, hearing Madame Pomfrey talk to me like that. I imagine it's what a mother would be like. She's back a few minutes later, carrying multiple vials in her arms, a stern looking woman following her. I shyly hand Madame Pomfrey my answer, as she in exchange gives me the vials to drink. I uncap the first one and down it in one gulp, grimacing at the taste. But I don't complain. Not that I could, mind you. I gulp down the rest of them, each one tasting worst than the last. After I've finished all of the contents, I watch Madame Pomfrey as the stern looking woman, who must be Professor McGonagall, reads the paper out loud.

" _My last name is Meryl. I don't have a first name._ You were never given a name?" Professor McGonagall asks. I shake my head no. She nods her head sadly, and continues reading. " _I'm mute, but you already know that. I've never been outside in my entire life. I've never met anyone other than my father, and you now. I'm a paraplegic. It means that I can't move anything on my body from the waist down. I've never had any formal education. I taught myself how to read and write from books I stole out of my father's library. I've never seen what I look like. I don't know anything about magic, so if someone could explain that to me a bit more in depth it'd be great. That's really all there is to know about me. Oh, and one more thing… I won't have to go back, will I?"_ Professor McGonagall finishes reading, and I can see tears swimming in her and Madame Pomfrey's eyes.

I lower my eyes. I've never had so much attention on me before. Especially not from two kind people. "Well, the education problem can be handled. There's about three weeks left until school starts. You'll be tutored until then, just on the basics, so you'll be up to all the other first years' level," my eyes widen excitedly, and McGonagall's thin lines curve upwards slightly, smiling. "Yes, that means you can say here. There's no way you'll ever have to go back to that _monster,_ at least not while I have any say in it," I feel my heart flutter. I never have to go back. This is the greatest day of my life! "But I must ask… how do you move around with such a disability?" McGonagall asks gently, and I immediately begin to look around. How could I have not noticed earlier? My wheelchair isn't with me. I motion for the paper and quill, and I hastily write out _Where's my wheelchair?_ Before handing Professor McGonagall the paper.

"Wheelchair? I'm afraid I don't understand," McGonagall says, handing me back the paper, beckoning me to write more. I scribble fast, desperate to know that my only way of transportation is safe. _A wheelchair is how I move. It's a chair that has two big wheels and two small wheels on it. I was sitting on it in the basement when you came. I need to have it, it's the only way I can get around._ Professor McGonagall scans over the paper, a look of understanding dawning her stern features. "If you'll excuse me Poppy, I must go get Miss Meryl's wheelchair for her."

Madame Pomfrey nods, and we watch as Professor McGonagall leaves the room. "Come on then, you need to rest more," the matron says, gently pushing me back into the pillows. I don't want to sleep, but Madame Pomfrey places a vial on my lips and pushes the contents into my mouth. It tastes nice, almost, and I swallow it. I'm instantly exhausted, and I close my eyes, allowing sleep to overcome me.


	9. Chapter 8

**Thanks for all the views! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please Read and Review!**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter.**

I'm awoken by the sound of voices nearby. I know that they're whispering, but after a life of living with Father and constantly being on my toes, my ears are fine tuned to pick up the even slightest sounds. I blink, and sit up slightly in my bed, in order to let the people talking know that I'm awake. I've never been big on eavesdropping. The voices stop just as my vision comes into focus. It's Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, not that that should come as a surprise. They both walk over to me, and Madame Pomfrey is instantly loading me down with potions. "Good morning sleepy head. We were starting to think you'd never wake up," Madame Pomfrey said, chuckling slightly. "Here, you'll need to take these potions right away. This one is to help heal your bruised ribs, this one is nutrients, this one's protein, this one's for any pain…" this list just went on and on, until my bedside table was filled to the brim with potions of varying size, color, and odor. Many gruesome minutes later, the vials had been emptied, my head was a little clearer, and I felt much more comfortable.

"Well now that that's been taken care of, there's some things that need to be discussed," Professor McGonagall began. "There's a healer coming from St. Mungo's today to see if there's anything that can be done for you. We also need to have a nice long chat about the magical world, just so you're all caught up," she finished. I was consumed with a strange mixture of apprehension and excitement at the prospect of someone from whatever this St. Mungo's was coming here to look at me. I was scared - the amount of people I had ever known had already tripled in the last few days, and while I wanted to meet plenty of new people, it was all just happening so fast. But I was also really excited, because it sounded like there was a chance that my legs or voice could be helped. But, I wouldn't get my hopes up. I learned years ago that being optimistic would only let me down more in the end. "Since we have a few hours before the healer gets here, how about we have that talk about magic you asked for?" Professor McGonagall says suddenly, disturbing me from my thoughts. I smile, nodding my head.

Learning about the magical world was amazing. I had always craved for information, and I couldn't care less about which world that information was on. McGonagall had covered everything, from Quidditch to the money system. She had told me about the other professors here, and how most of them were still away on holiday, except the headmaster, who was away for international affairs with the ministry. I felt so included, like I was apart of some big secret, which I guess I was. I was sitting in the hospital bed when Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall came in with a new lady. I knew that this had to be the healer. She was short, with broad shoulders and wispy brown hair pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head. She was dressed in scrubs, and was carrying a white bag.

"Hello Miss Meryl. My name is Healer Kalin. I'm just going to be running some tests to see if there's anything we can do to help you," she said as she came to stand next to my bed. Her voice was rough, but not cruel like Father's. It was demanding but kind. "Don't worry, there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of. You'll only feel a little tingle. Now, I'm just going to flip you onto your stomach, alright?" Healer Kalin said as she pulled the covers off of my legs. I nodded my head shakily. The healer helped turn me over so that I was laying on my stomach. She gently tugged the end of my pajama top up until it was at my shoulders. I feel very self conscious, knowing that all my scars are exposed. "Now I just want you to breathe normally for me," she said. I focused on keeping my breaths at a steady rate as the healer's hands traced my back in odd patterns as she muttered strange words. I had never had someone touch me so gently. My back felt very tingly, but it would have been quite peaceful had I not been so tense.

A few minutes later, Healer Kalin says, "Alright, now I'm going to examine your throat. So if you could just turn back over." I do, and then she has me tilt my head up a lot. Again she's muttering strange words and my neck feels all tingly. A couple minutes pass again before she stops. "Don't worry, we're almost done here. I just have a few questions to ask you," she says while handing me an ink bottle, a piece of yellowed paper, which I now know to be parchment, and a quill. "How old are you?" I write that I don't know. "Were you born mute?" I nod my head yes. "Were you born a paraplegic?" I shake my head no. "How were you paralyzed?" I write _I think I was three or four, and I was pushed down the stairs too hard, and I landed on the wrong part of my head I think. I couldn't walk again after that._ Healer Kalin nods her head slightly. "How much did you usually get to eat every day?" I write _About a meal a day and a cup of water if I was lucky._ "Did your father beat you often?" I start to write out my answer, but pause, taking a steadying breath. _It's okay_. _He's can't get to you here._ I tell myself. I write _I was hit every day without end. But I only got real beatings three times a week, sometimes more._ "And how long has that been going on?" _For as long I can remember._ Healer Kalin says, "I think that's about it. Give me a few minutes to review the results. I'll be right back."

Healer Kalin walks away, reading something from a parchment. She comes back a few minutes later. Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, who have been waiting silently during the whole process, turn to look at her expectantly. She clears her throat, and suddenly she looks much older. I don't like that look. "Unfortunately, nothing can be done about your voice or your legs," she pauses, and I can feel my heart drop in my chest. This is why I never get my hopes up. "You see, your vocal cords developed an anomaly, a sort of mutation, while you were developing in the womb. Basically, they are unable to vibrate properly when air passes through, which causes you to be mute. There's nothing that can be done since it happened before your birth. As for your legs, the nerves that allow them to move have been damaged beyond repair. The muscles in your head and the nerves in your spinal cord were seriously injured when you took that fall. You see, usually in the magical world, healers monitor the development of a child in the womb, so that if any anomalies arise, they can be fixed prior to birth. Or when someone undergoes a serious injury, like you did, they can be taken in and given proper medical attention, and be healed before the injury becomes permanent. Unfortunately since your injury was left untreated, it became permanent with no cure. But I will say that you are very strong. It's a miracle you survived such a fall with no medical attention, not to mention all the abuse you suffered." she stops, and the silence in the room is deafening. I try my best to keep my face emotionless, to not let them see that it got to me. They have to know I'm strong.

"But…" Healer Kalin starts to say, startling everyone in the room. "Professor McGonagall tells me that you have a wheelchair," she says, nodding to Professor McGonagall, who hurries off into a separate room. "...which allows you to move. I can place some enchantments on the chair, so that you'll be able to move up and down stairs without having to leave the chair." I smile slightly and nod my head, hoping that she understands I mean thank you. "I'm sorry there isn't more I could do for you." she says sadly, and I shrug. Professor McGonagall then comes in, pushing my wheelchair in front of her. I smile widely. I hadn't realized how much I had missed that thing until I saw it just now. Healer Kalin walks over to it and begins casting multiple spells on it. When she finishes, she walks back over to me and says, "Now, whenever you need to go up or down a set of stairs, just tap your wheelchair three times with your wand and point it in the direction you need to go. This will allow your wheelchair to hover above the steps. When you get to the top or bottom of the stairs, just tap it three more times and you'll return to the ground." I smile my thanks at her. She, Madame Pomfrey, and Professor McGonagall exchange goodbyes, and as Healer Kalin turns to leave, she says, "Good luck Miss Meryl. You know, you should really choose a first name for yourself."


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of it's characters.**

It's been three days since Healer Kalin came. I still haven't met any of the other professors here. Apparently they're all still away for holiday. I haven't left this bed yet, either. See, a normal person might get fidgety and bored being cooped up in a bed for a week, but it has been the most relaxing time of my life. I've never gotten to sleep so much. Or eat so much. Well, I've never had the sensation of not being hungry. Madame Pomfrey isn't letting me eat real food yet either. She says that after going so long without food, my stomach needs time to adjust to actually holding food. She says that if I ate anything solid right now, I would just throw it up. But I've been taking a lot of potions everyday too. I'm told that they're giving me the nutrients and protein my body needs and healing all my injuries. Madame Pomfrey won't let me leave the bed either, says I need more time to rest and heal before I can move around. I haven't bothered to point out that the most I could do is wheel around.

I'm excited for today. Professor McGonagall has been coming in everyday and tutoring me. So far she's just been covering the basics, like reading and writing, catching me up on everything other kids my age know already. She's coming in later today, but I'm excited for a different reason. I'm going to ask Madame Pomfrey if I can have a mirror. I've never seen myself, and when I got here a week ago, I was too afraid to ask. Or maybe I was too afraid to see. But I think I look better now. The bruises are sure to have faded by this point, and yesterday Madame Pomfrey did this really cool charm that instantly cleaned my hair and brushed it. I was amazed when I felt it. My hair had never been brushed before. I used to only get to bathe once every other week. But even then I could only take a bucket of cold water and a sponge down to the basement, where I would let the water drip over me. Madame Pomfrey told me that when I got here, she did this spell that cleaned my whole body, without even having to take a shower! I had never known what it felt like to be clean. Like, really truly clean. But I still haven't seen what I look like. I want to know, but I'm worried that what I see will be different than what I thought.

Madame Pomfrey comes bustling in, carrying the usual potions as well as a quill and parchment. She's been bringing it every morning in case I have something to say or ask. I swallow down all the potions, which have been tasting less and less gruesome everyday, before I write my question. I hand the paper to Madame Pomfrey, who reads it out loud. "Can I have a mirror? I've never seen myself before." Madame Pomfrey looks a little surprised at the question, but nods her head. "Of course dear. I can't believe I didn't think to give you a mirror sooner," she says. She waves her wand and says, "Accio mirror." A medium sized mirror flies into her hand, and she hands it to me. I take a deep breath, turn the mirror to face me, and look at my reflection. I am stunned. My hair is a deep, dark brown, and it sweeps past my shoulders and onto my back. My eyes are a piercing aquamarine green, with long black eyelashes swooping upwards. My face is gaunt, my cheeks sunken in, but I think that will go away with time. My complexion is completely clear, and my skin is deathly pale. I look like I've never seen the light of day… oh right. My lips are a pale cherry red, not thin, but not thick. My whole face has the look of someone who has seen too much. My eyes are haunted with the trauma of my life. I have lines that you can just barely make out, lines of worry and hardship. The shadows of bruises plague my pale skin. But overall, I look almost… beautiful. And maybe, one day, with a proper amount of sunshine and happiness, I'll regain a youthful glow I never had, and be beautiful.

"You look just like her, you know," a voice cuts through the silenced air, and I jump a little, startled to find that Professor McGonagall had come into the hospital wing as I examined my face. I give her a questioning look, and she smiles slightly before saying, "your mother, I mean. I taught her while she was here at Hogwarts. I was very close to her," my eyes widen, and she continues, "Yes, your mother was a witch. She was always exceedingly kind to everyone, no matter what your background was. She always saw the good in people. She was bright, the smartest student in her year. Professor Flitwick always said she should have been in Ravenclaw. But she was also brave. Daring. She ended up in Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall paused, her eyes slightly glazed over, remembering a certain Gryffindor whose life had ended too soon. But then a different look crosses over her face, one of sadness and maybe even guilt, and she says "Unfortunately I lost contact with her after she graduated. I knew that she married your father and had a child - you. I was surprised to say the least. She was still extremely young, only eighteen, when she had you. The last letter she ever sent me was about how she was worried she wouldn't be a good mom. I never heard from her again," she stops after that, and doesn't look like she plans on saying anything else.

But I'm desperate to know more, so I set the mirror aside and grab the parchment and quill, writing, Father said she died giving birth to me. He said the only reason he kept a freak like me was because it was my mother's last dying wish. I think he loved my mom, but found out she was a witch, and hated her and me for it. I think he started hitting her, and she only married him because she was pregnant with me. I think she was so sad by the time she had to deliver me that she had lost her will to live. I hand the parchment to Professor McGonagall, who reads it with a sad face. "That may be true, but we just don't know. But what I do know is that your mother loved you very much, even if she never got to meet you. Don't you ever forget that." Professor McGonagall said. We then moved on to my daily tutoring, and nothing more was said about my mother. It was okay. I was happy to know what she was like in her youth, glad to know that she was kind and smart, so very unlike my father. I was content with the information I had received, knowing that my mother loved me. And that was enough for me.


	11. Chapter 10

**I know this chapter is a bit short but I hope you like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters besides Miss Meryl.**

I've been thinking about Healer Kalin's last words to me constantly. I would really like to have a name for myself. I feel like it would help me move on my from my past, define me by my actions and not my father's. It would make me an equal.

The problem is, I don't know what to name myself. I've been pouring over books Professor McGonagall brought me from the library, but I haven't found anything yet that suits me. I want something that brings out the best qualities in me, that towers over my disabilities. But I also want it to sound pretty.

Yesterday I asked Madame Pomfrey if I could go outside. This sad look came across her face, and she said no, but that it was because my eyes needed to get used to smaller amounts of light intensity before I could go outside. But she also said that I could probably go outside in a few days. And that's okay. I'm a patient person. I've waited eleven years. I can easily handle a few more days.

Professor McGonagall then came in and taught me about British dialect and what curse words were. I already knew all of them, and I knew they were bad, but it was interesting to hear the words spoken with disgust. Not disgust directed through the words at me, but disgust directed at the words themselves. It was a nice change of tone.

Later that day I was sitting in bed, skimming through a history book, looking for a good name when a thought suddenly struck me. I had read a book from Father's library once, and I had found a name in it. It was the name of the main character, and I had fallen in love with the story. I knew what I wanted my name to be, I just could not remember it for the life of me. I called out for a house elf, who popped next to my bed immediately. Professor McGonagall had shown me a few days ago how to summon a house elf, in case I needed anything _. Could you please get me a book from the library on Hebraic folklore?_ I was worried the house elf wouldn't be able to read, but it seems they could, because the house elf nodded and popped away, returning a few minutes later with a book. _Thank you_ I wrote before the house elf left.

I rifled through the pages, hoping this book had the story I remembered. It did, and I searched for the name, finding it at least. It was perfect. I smiled happily as Madame Pomfrey came in."Well, you're looking cheerful today," she said curiously. "Can I ask what's gotten you in such a good mood?" I smiled wider.

 _I know what I want my name to be_ I wrote out. Madame Pomfrey smiled too, giving me a questioning look. "Well, what is it?" she said sweetly, her excitement for me only barely hiding. _Adira. It means strong._

 **A/N - Please Read and Review! It really helps me out!**


	12. Chapter 11

**Thank you all so much for the reviews! I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been super busy with school and other things this past week! I'll be trying to update at least twice a week now (hopefully more). Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I do own Adira Meryl.**

I get to leave my bed today! And Madame Pomfrey even said I could go outside! I'm so excited, I wouldn't have slept at all last night if it wasn't for the sleeping potion I was given. I mean, it's not even the chance to finally move around again that's gotten me so excited, it's imagining feeling sun on my face, wind in my hair. Feeling grass and flowers, seeing the world beyond a window. All the things I was never able to experience. I'm practically buzzing with excitement.

While I slept, my wheelchair was brought around and positioned right next to my bed. Waiting for me. It's all I can do to not crawl into it right now. I try to distract myself by seeing how fast I can say the alphabet backwards while I wait for Madame Pomfrey to come. Z… Y… X… W….V… U… T… the infirmary door swings open. I sit up, smiling widely. "Alright, alright, I'm coming Adira. Sorry it took me so long, I was dealing with a few last minute things," Madame Pomfrey said happily, handing me my daily potions. I've drained them all in seconds. "Well, let's get you into some better clothes now," she said, pulling back the covers on my bed. She pulled out her wand and muttered something. A bluish light erupted from the tip of the wand, and it spread until it covered the pajamas I had been wearing. Then, in a flash of bright light, I found myself suddenly wearing a skirt and sweater. I had never worn such nice clothes before, let alone ones that fit me. I looked up at Madame Pomfrey, awe etched in my features. She chuckled lightheartedly, my excitement too big not to be contagious. "Now, I'm not too sure how you usually get into your wheelchair. I could do a spell that could levitate you if you like…" she trailed off, seeing me draw my wheelchair closer until the seat of it was touching the bed. I turned myself around with my arms and pushed myself backwards into the seat. I grabbed onto the wheels and rolled them backwards, effectively backing me up and dragging my legs off the bed. I then positioned each of them onto their little stools at the bottom. Finished, I turned to Madame Pomfrey. "Well, that was something. I see no point in making you wait any longer. Professor McGonagall is already waiting for us outside. We've set a little something up for you." And with that, Madame Pomfrey rolled me out of the infirmary.

Hogwarts was by far the more amazing than I could have ever imagined. It had a seemingly endless amount of walls, corridors, and doors. Pictures lined the walls, and they were all moving! They all waved out me as I passed. Madame Pomfrey was pushing my wheelchair. I was perfectly capable of doing so myself, but I didn't know where I was going, and I was too distracted trying to take in everything to push myself around very effectively. We got to a large room, and Madame Pomfrey slowed down, coming to a stop. I turned to look up at her, wondering why we had stopped when I was so close to being outside. I could feel it. "Sorry, I should have given you these before we left. Guess it slipped my mind," she handed me a pair of dark sunglasses. "The sun will hurt your eyes if you don't wear these. I'm afraid you'll have to wear them anytime you're outside too, at least for a few months," I grabbed the glasses and slipped them onto my face. The room darkened considerably. I didn't mind having to wear them outside. As long as I still got to experience the world. Madame Pomfrey smiled, and started pushing me again. I saw her wave her wand out of the corner of my eye, and suddenly the giant doors in front of me began to open.

My jaw dropped as I went outside for the first time in my life. The amount of light was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. There were so many colors. The sky was an endless ocean of blue, a plethora of lighter and darker shades all swimming together. Dotting the sky like little dust bunnies, the clouds were amazing. They came in all shapes and sizes, each one fluffier looking than the last. I looked around. There was a limitless expanse of trees not too far down. To my left was a lake. It was absolutely incredible. It sat like a piece of glass, until something touched it. And then the glassy surface would ripple and return to its still state. It was beautiful. There was grass below me. It was a bright green, and looked perfect against the glassy water and oceanic sky. It all swayed gently as one with the direction of the wind. And the wind! There was a soft breeze, not cold but not warm. It played with my hair in the most enchanting way. And then I felt it. Sun! It was warm on my face, comforting me in an impossibly pleasant way. It was all I could have hoped for and more. It was then that I decided that nature would always be more magical than any actual magic.

I hadn't realised how far we had traveled down the gently sloping hill until Madame Pomfrey tapped me on the soldier. I blinked and looked around. Beneath me, right near the edge of the glassy lake, under a tall tree in a sheet of swaying grass, was a quilted blanket. On top of it was a wooden basket, and sitting on the quilt was Professor McGonagall. I leaned forward, reaching out to the quilt. Once my hands had touched it, I dragged my legs off the chair and onto the quilt. Madame Pomfrey sat down next to me. Both her and Professor McGonagall were absolutely beaming at me. I hadn't noticed until now that there were tears of joy in my eyes, lightly sprinkling my cheeks.

"We wanted to do something special for you since this is quite a big deal. So we thought we'd make you a picnic," Professor McGonagall said. I smiled wider, if that was even possible. I reached out next to me, stretching towards the grass. My hands found it, and I leaned forward more, pushing my face into the amazing turf. It felt so unbelievable. I sat up and leaned the other way, touching the edge of the lake. It was colder and muddy, but it was instantly one of my favorite things. I withdrew my fingers and sat back up. Madame Pomfrey soon explained how the basket was enchanted, so that all I had to do was think of what I wanted, and it would appear. I didn't know what to eat, so I had Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall get their food first. They each got a sandwich and a drink. I reached my hand in and thought _Can I just have whatever they have?_ Instantly my hands found another sandwich and drink. I pulled them out and looked questioningly to Madame Pomfrey, silently asking her if I would be able to eat solid food. She nodded, saying "Yes, I do think that your stomach will be able to handle a solid meal at this point." I smiled and opened the drink. I didn't know what it was, but is smelled delightful. I took a long sip, and I was filled with warmth. I smiled sheepishly, and Professor McGonagall chuckled. "That's butterbeer Adira," she said. I loved hearing my new name. And I loved butterbeer.

We sat outside for a long time, Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall watching me happily while I just layed back onto the grass, watching the clouds pass, feeling the sun on my face, listening to everything. The birds, the crickets, the bees. It was the most tranquil setting I had ever been in. Everything was just right. Every blade of grass and each leaf was beautiful. I wanted to stay out all night, and we almost did. I watched as the sun set over the lake, turning the sky into an artwork of colors. The sunset was dazzling, the colors were vibrant yet soothing. It was incredibly gorgeous. Night fell quickly after that, and I watched as stars speckled the dark sky. The moon was like a beacon in the vast array of stars. Each stage of the day was unbelievably brilliant. Eventually Madame Pomfrey said it was time to go and that I needed my sleep. She handed me a vial and I drank it. I suddenly felt so tired. I laid back down on the blanket. Part of me was slightly mad that Madame Pomfrey had given me a sleeping potion, but I didn't blame her. I knew that I needed to get to sleep, and I was more than content with the day. I knew I would be outside soon enough, and that was enough for me. I drifted off into a peaceful sleep under the stars that night.

 **Please Read and Review!**


	13. Chapter 12

**Again, so sorry I haven't updated in awhile! Please Read and Review!**

 **Disclaimer: Still don't own any Harry Potter characters besides Adira.**

It's funny how time seems to fly so quickly when you're happy. When I got here, there were three weeks left until school started. So much has happened since then. I've healed more than I ever thought possible, both physically and mentally. Even though I'm still much too small, I've gained some very needed weight. I got to see myself for the first time ever. I got to go outside. I've met people, women, who are kind and loving.

Time has been flying, though, far too quickly for my liking. School starts in three days. I've been going outside every day since that first time. Only for a few hours at the most, though. Not for the whole day. Professor McGonagall has been showing me around the school. Not much, mainly just where my classes are. She says she would show me where all the house dormitories are, but I'm not supposed to know that before school starts. I don't have my wand yet, so Professor McGonagall has been casting the charm for staircases herself on my wheelchair. It's absolutely unbelievably how big the castle is. It's practically infinite. Each hallway leads to another hallway, each door leads to another classroom or storage room. The pictures all move, living their lives behind an oiled canvas. Everything about Hogwarts is amazing.

My favorite place, besides outside, of course, is the library. There's so many books, so much to read, to learn. I haven't gotten the chance to spend a lot of time there, yet, but I think I'll be there a lot during in my free time once school starts.

My diet is still primarily fluids. I take my potions for breakfast and lunch, but I get to eat a solid dinner, along with some potions. As long as it's not too large of a meal.

I'm so excited for school to start. I just want to find out what house I'm in. I've read about all the houses already, but I'm still not sure what house I'm meant to be in. I don't think it's Slytherin. Based on the books I've read, Slytherin house doesn't seem to have a very good reputation, and all the people sound snobby and stuck up. I might be a Hufflepuff. I'm kind, and just, but I don't know about loyal. I haven't had the chance to be loyal to anyone yet. Maybe I'm a Ravenclaw. I love learning. I can't seem to get information. But I want to be more, experience more than just books. Or maybe I'm a Gryffindor. I don't know how bold I am, but again, I haven't had very many opportunities to be brave and courageous. I think I could be, if I had the chance. But how heroic could a crippled like me be? I just hope that the Sorting Hat, which according to Professor McGonagall is an enchanted hat, knows where to put me more than I currently do.

Yesterday I met Professor Sprout, who apparently teaches Herbology. She was so nice and grandmotherly. I think I'm really going to like her class. I love the outdoors so much, and what could possibly be better than a class set outside where all the curriculum is plant-based? She said she looked forward to having me in her class. I said, or, wrote, that I looked forward to being in her class.

Two more of the professors are supposed to come today. Professor Dumbledore, who's apparently the headmaster, and Professor Snape, who teaches potions. Professor McGonagall said that Professor Snape is very serious about his art. I think I'll like potions. It sounds delicate, fragile, and I typically have a pretty keen eye when it comes down to detail. I'm quite nervous about meeting these two professors, though. I still haven't met another man. Only Father. I'm scared that the professors will be cruel and mean like him. But I mustn't think like that. Father may have been completely horrible in every way possible, but that doesn't mean that all men are like that.

Currently, though, I'm back in my wheelchair in the hospital wing, reading a book called _Hogwarts: A History_. It's truly very fascinating. Lately I've been trying to read as much as possible. I don't want to be behind academically once school starts. Professor McGonagall brought me spare copies of all my textbooks for this year two days ago. I've already read four of them. I'm trying to finish them all before school starts. Professor McGonagall said that she'll be taking me shopping in Diagon Alley really early on September 1, and then I'll just go straight to the Hogwarts Express with my future classmates. I got really embarrassed when she mentioned shopping, though, because I knew that I didn't have any money. But Professor McGonagall explained to me that there were funds for kids that couldn't afford their school supplies.

I hear voices coming down the hallway outside of the infirmary. The voices are deeper than any of the ladies' that I've met. This must be Professors Snape and Dumbledore. The voices are getting louder. I can hear them stop outside of the infirmary. One of them, a deep, silky baritone voice says, "This is not an orphanage. We can't just house little brats because their parents aren't very nice." The voice is cold, rough. I know that he's talking about me.

"Oh Severus, did you not hear what Professor McGonagall told you? This child has been through far too much. The least you could do is greet her as kindly as possible." It's the other voice this time. It's deep, but calming and soothing, so very unlike the first person.

"Headmaster, I am simply trying to say that this girl will not be able to stay here every summer. Surely Professor McGonagall realizes that she'll have to be moved to an actual orphanage at least for the summer holidays in the future." It's said with a bitter, sort of stuck-up edge. This must be Professor Snape, since he addressed the other man as Headmaster. I don't think I like him very much. What he says worries me. I never thought about next year. I guess I'd always sort of mentally assumed that I would stay here, but I know that deep down, I knew that that wasn't a realistic possibility.

"Yes, well, we will get to that when the time comes. But for now we must meet Miss Adira. And do try to be gentle, Severus," he paused. I could hear footsteps getting closer. "Hello, Professor McGonagall, we were just about to go introduce ourselves. Shall we?" Professor Dumbledore said kindly. I thought I heard a loud sigh, but right at that moment the three professors came in, lead by Professor McGonagall. I set my book down on the bed beside me, holding my breath. One of them looked quite old. He had a long white beard with half moon spectacles. His eyes were a piercing blue that seemed to have a sort of twinkle in them. The other man wore black robes, which billowed around him as he walked. He had a hooked nose, onyx eyes, and a pale, sallow face framed by greasy black hair. I assumed that this was Snape. He scared me. He had a rough, cruel manner about him that seemed very similar to Father.

"Ah, Miss Adira. I'm Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster. It's a pleasure to meet you. Would you care for a lemon drop?" He extended his hand towards me, and at first I flinched backwards, terrified of being hit, but then I saw the yellow candy in his hand. I looked to Professor McGonagall, who nodded, and I timidly reached out and took the candy, smiling very slightly before dropping my gaze to the floor embarrassedly. Dumbledore seemed very kind, welcoming. I wanted to trust him. It would just take some time.

"Where are your manners, girl? Aren't you going to say thank you?" Snape said sourly, a cold sneer on his face. It looked too much like Father. Sounded too much like Father. I felt my stomach drop. I could hear my breathing picking up.

"Severus! How dare you say something like that! She was born mute, or did you forget?" Professor McGonagall barked at him.

"Oh yes, a mute and a paraplegic," he started in a sarcastic voice. "Do you realize how much we will have to adjust the curriculum for her? Her and Potter in the same year. I'm sure he'll be as arrogant as his father, but her?" He turned to face me now. "I'm sure you just think you're so special getting to stay here over the summer. Getting to have everything adjusted just because your vocal cords and legs don't work." He stopped, seeing my reaction. My breathing had been picking up, getting closer and closer to the point of hyperventilating, until it stopped altogether. I couldn't get a breath in. I couldn't breathe. I gasped, but no air came in. I could only think of Father. Memories of him came flooding back to me in those moments. Memories I had been working so hard to forget. Memories of him taunting me for my disabilities. Always saying how useless I was. The hospital wing faded away from view, and I was back in the basement, Father looming menacingly over me. I was paralyzed, not from my disability, but from fear. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Madame Pomfrey shouting something. I was vaguely aware of the sensation of falling out of my chair, hitting the ground. There were hands on my shoulders, a bottle being pressed to my lips. But this was all a distant occurrence for me. I only saw Father, cracking his knuckles, holding his belt. Kicking me. Punching me. Taunting me. Tears were streaming down my face. And I could feel my lungs burning from the lack of air. And then everything went black.


	14. Chapter 13

**Happy Halloween everyone!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter because if I did, I'd be a billionaire, which I'm clearly not.**

My first conscious thought was that my head was pounding. My second was that I was very drowsy. It was strange… the basement floor had never felt so soft. The rags I wrapped myself in had never felt so warm. I wonder what time it is. I flutter my eyes open slowly, but I squeeze them shut in response. It's bright in the room. The basement is never bright. Why hasn't Father woken me up yet? Why can't I feel any of my bruises? I sigh softly, listening to hear Father somewhere. I don't hear his heavy footsteps upstairs, or his rough voice. But I do hear voices. Low, gentle voices. Higher pitched than Father's. And then I start to remember. I was no longer trapped in the basement. I was at Hogwarts. I don't remember what happened last. I know that I blacked out for some reason. I may not remember what happened, but I've fainted enough times to recognize the signs later on. The headache, fatigue, forgetfulness. I open my eyes again, this time prepared for the dim light. I smile slightly in relief, grateful when the hospital wing swam into view.

Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall are in the corner, whispering quietly. I sit up slightly, just enough to gain their attention. They look over at me and and smile, relief evident on their faces. They walk over to my bed as Madame Pomfrey says, "That was quite an episode. I haven't seen such a panic attack in years. No matter, though. Luckily you were in here when it happened so that I could administer a calming draught immediately. You did, however, faint before I could, so if you're dizzy or tired, that's why," she says as she hands me a potion. "That's for the headache," Madame Pomfrey says with a wink. I smiled, partly to thank her, and partly because I just loved how she always knew how I felt.

"I'm glad that you're alright," Professor McGonagall said with a motherly sort of look in her eyes. "Professor Snape had no right to say that to you," she said with a cold voice. As she said that, her eyes got a hard, bitter look in them, but it was gone in a second. "Dumbledore has had Snape assure me that he will be less ignorantly blunt with you from now on." I nodded my head slowly, remembering everything that Snape had said to me. I didn't blame him. It wasn't really what he said that got to me. It was more so just the fact that Father wore that same sneer, said the same type of things. I would just have to ignore him, and anyone else for that matter, when I heard those things. I wouldn't be weak anymore.

Professor McGonagall told me that I would be going shopping for my school supplies in Diagon Alley tomorrow. I was really excited. I wasn't too sure how we would get there, though. The different methods of wizard travel had all been explained to me, but I wasn't sure which one would be able to accommodate for my uh… special needs. The Floo Network probably wouldn't work, as my wheelchair wouldn't be able to fit into the fireplace. Brooms definitely didn't seem like an option. A Portkey might work, but it would be hard to land properly while in a wheelchair. I guess that left Apparation. It seemed like a cool concept, but the thought of teleportation kind of scared me.

She also told me that we'd be leaving really early. Like, at six in the morning. I didn't have a problem with waking up so early. I was used to getting up at four after an hour or two of sleep. I was also so nervous. Not of shopping, though the idea of going to such a strange new place with so many strange new people was slightly intimidating. But that's another reason why we were going early. Fewer people. I was scared of what my new life at Hogwarts would be like. Scared that people would be mean. Mock me. Scared that I wouldn't be able to keep up academically. What if I didn't make any friends? What if I get lost, or can't work the spell on my wheelchair properly? What if people find out about my past and stay away from me because of it? _Stop it, Adira_ , I told myself. I was psyching myself out.

My nerves didn't want me to sleep, but Madame Pomfrey seemed to have other plans as she gave me a sleeping potion at seven that night.

I was woken up at five a.m. the next morning by Professor McGonagall, though I didn't find myself tired at all. She was already completely dressed and ready for the day, and part of me felt guilty for making her wake up so early on last her morning before school. She transfigured my pajamas into a skirt and sweater, and a blanket into a cloak. I took my breakfast potions and crawled into my wheelchair, buzzing with nervous anticipation. McGonagall wheeled me out of the castle and down the hill to where she had told me the apparation wards for Hogwarts were cast. I guess that meant we were apparating. "Alright, now apparating can be a bit of a nauseating experience the first few times, but the feeling will pass soon. Don't worry, you don't have to do a thing. Just grab my arm and hold tightly." she said as I grasped the arm she offered me with both my hands. Using her other hand, she grabbed the arm of my wheelchair. I breathed in deeply, waiting for it to happen. "Now that I think of it, you've actually apparated before. I brought you here through apparation. Now, to Diagon Alley." she said before turning on her heel.

I watched in what seemed to be slow motion as the world around me was whipped away and I was sucked into a tight tube, so tight that I couldn't get air in. I was being squeezed in every direction, and just when I thought that I was about to die, the world regained color and I gasped in a great breath of air. I coughed for at least a minute, finally regaining enough of my composure to notice the world around me. We were in what I could only assume was a bar. It was dark in here, and there was no one in here other than the bartender and a maid. "This is the Leaky Cauldron. It's one of the entrances to Diagon Alley." McGonagall said. She stepped behind me and led me through to the back. "Oh, I almost forgot. Madame Pomfrey would have my head if I didn't make sure you wore these" she said, handing me my sunglasses. I took them and slipped them onto my face. We then went outside to where a large brick wall stood. McGonagall took out her wand and tapped the wall. Then, to my amazement, the bricks started moving apart until an archway stood before us. McGonagall pushed me through, and my eyes widened in awe as a whole new world presented itself in front of me. Shops of all different shapes, colors, and content were scattered along the sides. The was an animal shop, a clothing store, an apothecary, an ice cream shop, a Quidditch store, and so much more. I heard Professor McGonagall chuckle slightly as she pushed me through the alley, but I didn't care. My face had an expression similar to that of a toddler watching a ceiling fan go around; pure wonder and amazement. The shops were all open, but there weren't many people around, which I was very grateful for. I had told myself this morning that no matter how many people I saw, both women and men, I wouldn't freak out.

Professor McGonagall took me to Madame Malkin's first, which was the clothing stores. She was a really sweet lady who didn't treat me strangely at all because of my disability. She did have to adjust the way she fit the clothes for me since I couldn't stand up, but that was fine because I wouldn't be standing up ever anyways.

About an hour later, McGonagall and I were leaving Madam Malkin's with bags full of school robes. We went to the bookstore next. McGonagall went to find all the school books while I just roamed around as much as I could. There were so many interesting books. I wished I could buy them all, but I was using money from a school fund for school purposes, not my own leisure. I pretended not to be bothered by it, but Professor McGonagall must have noticed that I was sad, because she bought me a book about underwater plants that I had been reading the cover of. I was so happy to have a book of my own. I mouthed thank you to her repeatedly, but she said that it was nothing.

We then bought a large trunk to put my rapidly growing amount of school supplies in, which Professor McGonagall wheeled around as I pushed myself through Diagon Alley. After that was the apothecary, where I got a large cauldron and all the supplies needed for potions. I finished getting the rest of my supplies at various other stores, realizing that I still needed something - a wand. Professor McGonagall seemed to know this, as she lead me to a store that was called Ollivander's. The store looked old and rustic, and the bell jingled as the door was pushed open.

An old man with white hair and milky eyes appeared from behind multiple rows of boxes. "Ah, Miss Meryl. Pleasure to meet you," he said in a strange voice. I wondered how he knew my name. "Now if you would, please hold out your dominant hand." I lifted my right hand, and a tape measure flew from his pocket and started measuring every part of me. Mr. Ollivander then went over to the tall stacks of boxes and pulled one out. He opened it and handed me the wand inside. "Apple wood, dragon heartstring, 11¼ inches, slightly springy" he said as I took the wand. "Well, give it a wave," I did so, and a flower vase next to me shattered. "No, not that one," he said, taking the wand from me. He put it back and handed me a different one. "Cypress, phoenix, 9½ inches, very durable," he said, and I waved it, but this time boxes flew from the shelves and Mr. Ollivander took the wand back. "Ah, try this one. Chestnut, unicorn hair, 10¾ inches, hard flexibility," he said, handing me the wand. I took it, and a warmth unlike anything I have ever experienced raced through my fingertips, into my arm, and throughout my body. I waved it, and I saw the lights flicker as wind rustled through me. I smiled. "I think you've found your wand, Miss Meryl." Mr. Ollivander said happily. Professor McGonagall paid and we left the shop.

"Well that's everything. And we are right on time. It's already 10:30. Now, off to King's Cross," Professor McGonagall said as we reentered the Leaky Cauldron. There were now multiple people occupying the tables and bar stools, and many of them turned to look at me strangely. I looked down, embarrassed, grateful when McGonagall offered me her arm and took my wheelchair in her other hand, apparating us away.

We appeared on the outside of a building, in an alleyway so that no one would see us. I felt nauseous again, but handled it much better than last time. "Are you ready?" Professor McGonagall asked me, and I nodded, feeling my stomach do backflips. I could hear a loud bustle as people went in and out of the train station. I took a deep breath and followed her out of the alleyway and to the front of the station. I kept my head down, and was glad to find that most people were polite enough not to stare at me. I felt so self conscious, and I could feel my breath begin to speed up. _Calm down_ I told myself. I continued following Professor McGonagall through the train station until we got to platforms 9 and 10.

"The train is just through there," she said, pointing to somewhere between the two platforms. I didn't see it. All I saw was a brick wall. I looked up at her with a confused expression on my face. She understood and smiled, saying, "That wall is the barrier. You have to go through it to get to Platform 9¾. Watch." Professor McGonagall walked over to the wall and stuck her arm out. I expected it to hit the bricks, but instead, it passed right through, as if the wall wasn't there. I stared at her dumbfoundedly and she withdrew her arm, once again grabbing hold of my trunk. "Give me just one moment," she said before walking straight at the wall, disappearing completely. A minute later, she returned, this time without my trunk, and walked behind me, grabbing the handles of my chair. "Ready? Don't worry, it won't hurt." I nodded. Professor McGonagall started walking towards the wall, and I braced myself for the impact, but none came. Instead, I found myself staring at the infamous Platform 9¾, the Hogwarts Express gleaming in all its glory.


	15. Chapter 14

**Sorry it's been so long! Muggle high school is so stressful!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Some of the** **dialogue** **is from Philosopher's Stone.**

I was mesmerized. I couldn't take my eyes off the train. It was so beautiful. The scarlet and gold paint was shining brilliantly, and there was perfect looking steam coming from the front of it. I don't know how long it was before I was snapped out of my trance. Professor McGonagall had already put my trunk in an empty compartment on the train, so I wheeled over to the Hogwarts Express and found one of the doorways. It was a few inches off the ground, and I figured it would be good to practice the spell on my wheelchair before arriving back at Hogwarts. I pulled my new wand out of my pocket and tapped it three times on the handle before angling it slightly upwards to show the direction I wanted to go. Instantly, my wheelchair rose off the ground and into the train. I tapped the handle three more times, and I was gently lowered back to the ground. I sighed in relief. I had been stressed out that the spell wouldn't work when I did it. Professor McGonagall stepped in after me, and lead me down the hallway, which was thankfully just wide enough for my wheelchair. We were very early, and I didn't see anyone else, which I was very grateful for. We got to a compartment in the back where my trunk was, and I rolled inside. There was no space for me to put my wheelchair in without it taking up all the space, so I decided to sit on one of the benches. I climbed out of my chair and onto the bench, taking off my sunglasses. Professor McGonagall then folded my wheelchair and stowed it beneath my seat. She gave me one of the packages that had my school robes in it, and I stowed it underneath too. She also handed me some parchment and a quill, as well as a few books to read.

She looked at her watch and said, "Well, I must be getting back to Hogwarts now. Lots to do before everyone arrives. Will you be alright?" I smiled and nodded, writing, _Thank you for everything today. It was amazing._ Professor McGonagall beamed and said, "You're very welcome, Adira. Oh! Madame Pomfrey will be very angry with me if I don't give you these," she said, handing me my daily potions. I took them and placed them next to me. "I'll see you at the sorting." She left after that, and I opened a book on Transfiguration to read as I waited. Soon, I heard the growing sounds of kids and their parents. I tried to ignore them all. Listening to kids with loving parents was hard. I also hadn't met any other kids, and I was getting nervous just listening to them.

At around 10:50, I heard someone open the compartment door. It was a boy who had messy black hair with circular glasses and piercingly green eyes. He looked shy and uncomfortable, wearing clothes that were many sizes too big for him. He saw me, and instead of feeling terrified like I thought I would, something about him seemed welcoming in a comforting sort of way. "Uh… do you mind if I sit here?" he said quietly, awkwardly. I nodded my head, smiling very slightly. The boy walked in and put his luggage in the rack above, before sitting in the seat across from me. "I'm Harry," he said after a few moments of awkward silence. I didn't know what to do, so I just wrote on the parchment _I'm Adira_. Harry read it and said, "That's a nice name. So… you don't talk much?" I shook my head. He looked like he wanted to say more, but seemed to decide against it, changing the topic. "It's my first year here. Is it yours too?" I nodded again. "To be honest, I didn't even know about magic until a few weeks ago. My guardians, well, they didn't quite want me to know about it," he trailed off, looking down at his hands. I wrote _My dad didn't want me to know about magic either._ Harry saw this, and seemed to visibly relax. The train started moving after that, and I started to read my book again. Moments later, the door to the compartment slid open and a red-headed boy walked in.

"Anyone sitting there? Everywhere else is full," he said, pointing to the spot next to Harry. Harry shook his head, sliding over a bit so that the boy could sit down. "I'm Ron by the way, Ron Weasley," he said.

I'm Harry, Harry Potter," Harry said, copying Ron's words. Ron gasped. "Are you really?" Harry nodded. "So do you really have the… the… _scar_?" he whispered the last word, almost as if it was forbidden to say it. "Oh, yeah," Harry said, lifting up his messy black hair to reveal a scar shaped like a lightning bolt. "Wicked!" Ron breathed out and Harry smiled a bit. His name, Harry Potter, sounded oddly familiar. That was the name Professor Snape had said earlier. Harry didn't seem arrogant, like he was said to be. I wonder why he was famous. I would have to find out.

Then Ron seemed to remember I was there, and he said, "What's your name?" I was about to point to the parchment when Harry said, "That's Adira. She doesn't talk much." I nodded, grateful for Harry telling Ron. "Oh." Ron said, and then pulled what appeared to be a rat out of his pocket, introducing it as Scabbers, who was apparently pathetic.

A few minutes later, a lady knocked on the compartment door, asking if we wanted anything from the trolley. Everything looked delicious, but I wasn't sure if I could eat any of it. Madame Pomfrey told me this morning that tomorrow I could start eating a real breakfast along with dinner, but lunch was still potions for nutrients. "No thanks, I already have sandwiches," Ron muttered, his ears turning pink. I nodded, looking at my potions. But Harry leapt up and pulled out a pocket of gold coins, saying "We'll take the lot."

Mere seconds later our compartment was full of sweets. It all looked really tasty, but I didn't want to risk anything, so I just sat back and watched as Ron explained something about Chocolate Frog cards. "Adira, do you want anything?" Harry asked, motioning to the candy around him and Ron, but I just shook my head, pointing at the potions. "Why do you have to take those?" Ron blurted out. I wrote _It's a long story. I just can't have any solid food for lunch right now_. "Oh. But you can have some candy, can't you?" he asked, and I shook my head. "I would hate it if I couldn't eat any sweets." I smiled a bit and took my potions. Ron then started talking about Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, which I didn't find very interesting, so I just continued to read my book because I wanted to finish it before we got to Hogwarts..

A little while after that, our compartment door was again opened. This time it was a girl with big bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. She was already dressed in her robes for school. "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one," she said very matter-of-factly. The boys shook their heads, and then the girl seemed to notice Ron's wand that he had just been about to perform a spell with and said, "Are you doing magic? Let's see it then." Ron didn't look like he wanted to do it anymore, but he pointed his wand at Scabbers and said, " _Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow._ " Nothing happened. The girl said, "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've only tried a few simple spells myself, but they've all worked for me. For example," she pointed her wand at Harry's glasses, which were taped up at the bridge and said, " _Occulus Reparo."_ The tape flew off the glasses, which seemed to be good as new. Harry took them off to get a better view, smiling widely.

"Holy crickets! I know who you are. You're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger. Who are you?" she asked me, and this time it was Ron who said, "That's Adira." Hermione nodded and asked Ron, "And, you are?" Ron was chewing on a piece of candy at this point, and he mumbled, "Ron Weasley."

"Pleasure. Well, I"ll be going now. I suggest you change into your robes. I suspect we'll be arriving soon," Hermione said before walking out of the carriage. Before she had left completely though, she turned back around and said to Ron, "You've got dirt on your nose. Did you know? It's just there," she pointed to a spot on her nose before leaving. I vaguely wondered if all girls my age were so snobbish, but I think Hermione just wants to appear more confident than she is. "We should probably change," Harry said, and Ron nodded in agreement. "I guess we'll change in the bathrooms so you can stay here." They stood up and grabbed their robes from their trunks, leaving me in the compartment alone.

I grabbed the package from under my feet and unwrapped it, pulling out my Hogwarts robes. Changing had been a pretty difficult feat to master back when I was first paralyzed, but eventually I figured it out. After checking to make sure the compartment door was fully shut and the blinds were drawn, I laid down on the bench on my back, pulling my legs up so that they were on the bench as well. I then took my skirt off by pulling my legs up and sliding it off. I put my new bottoms on, which was another skirt, by the same process but in reverse. Changing my bottoms always took the longest, because I had to maneuver around to undress and redress. I sat up again forced the socks onto my numb feet before removing my top. I tried not to think about all the scars on my back as I put on the white button down top, tie, and sweater. I put on the robes last and started running my fingers through my long hair to brush it out slightly just as Harry and Ron knocked on the door. I leaned over so I could open it for them, and then sat back up as they walked in.

Soon the train was slowing down, and then it was stopping, and I could hear hundreds of kids as they crowded into the hallway and began exiting. Ron and Harry stood up, and Harry said, "Are you coming, Adira?" I nodded, and, feeling slightly embarrassed, pulled my folded wheelchair out from under the seat and opened it up. I gathered all my things together in one place and climbed into my chair, bringing my wand, quill, and parchment with me since everything else would be taken up to our dormitories. Harry and Ron had been silent the whole time, watching me. Ron looked confused, but Harry seemed to understand. "What's wrong with you?" Ron asked bluntly. Harry nudged his arm and said, "Ron! She's paralyzed!"

"She's what?" he asked. I forgot that paralysis wasn't very common in the wizarding world. I wrote, _I'm a paraplegic. I can't move from the waist down._ Ron read it and a look of understanding dawned his face. "Ohhhh... that's why you weren't moving the whole train ride." I nodded. "So is it a muggle thing, then? Being, uh, paralyzed?" I nodded again, writing, _Sort of. Usually magic can fix it before it becomes permanent._ "Oh," was all Ron said. He walked out first, followed by Harry, followed by me. We were the last people out, and as we got outside I mentally cursed myself because I had forgotten my sunglasses. It was dark outside, but my eyes did hurt a bit, but it wasn't bad.

I heard a loud, booming voice calling, "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! Alright there, Harry?" a giant man said. "Hi Hagrid!" Harry responded. Then he saw me. "Ah, yeh must be Adira! Professor McGonagall told me abou' yeh. I've got a boat that'll work nicely for yeh." I could only nod slightly, both in awe and terrified of this big man who appeared so menacing but seemed so nice. "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" We started going down a hill, and it was hard for me to controls my wheelchair. I was about to take out my wand when Harry grabbed the handles on the back and guided my chair downwards. I turned and smiled at him to express my thanks. Luckily we were at the back of the group, so no one saw me... yet. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec. Jus' round this bend here." A loud 'Ooooooh' filled the air, and I sucked in my breath. I had already seen Hogwarts, but not like this. It was perched on a cliff, and it was breathtaking in the dark, where all the lit windows made a beautiful skyline. "No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called. "Adira, yeh can follow me!" he said, and Harry pushed me over to him until the ground was even, at which point I continued pushing myself. Harry left to go to a boat with Ron, Hermione, and another boy, who I think is Neville. I continued following Hagrid to a boat on the side. It was wider than the others but shorter in length, and the sides of it went much higher up. Hagrid picked me up in my wheelchair and set me down in the boat. The sides came to just below my shoulder all around me except the front, and while I felt secure, I was very worried about actually riding in it. "Don' worry, Adira. The boats are charmed, so yeh won' tip or anythin'." I nodded nervously, clinging to the sides of my wheelchair with an iron grip. "Everyone in? Right then - FORWARD!" Hagrid shouted, and my boat lurched into the water. The boat ride was nothing like I expected it to be. It was smooth, and I found that my hands relaxed more and more as the boat went forward. Soon we got to the bank, where Hagrid proceeded to lift me out of the boat again. Harry and Ron came to meet me, and we stayed at the back of the group as Harry started pushing me up the hill.

In no time at all, we were inside Hogwarts, and it was as beautiful as ever. We were led through the entrance hall and stopped outside the Great Hall. Everyone was still too captivated to notice me. Then I saw the familiar emerald green robes and pointy black hat of Professor McGonagall. I smiled as she said, "Welcome to Hogwarts. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into you Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of you House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room. The-"

"Trevor!" the boy, Neville, shouted, reaching down and picking up a toad off the ground. Professor McGonagall gave him a stern look, and he retreated back into the crowd.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. Your triumphs will earn your House points, and any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. The Sorting Ceremony will begin shortly." She then left, and a nervous murmur began to fill the crowd. And then this happened.

"Look! What's wrong her?" someone shouted. It was a cold voice, and it didn't take long to locate the source of it. It was a boy with a long, pointed face, slicked back blond hair, a sneer plastered on his face. Everyone turned to look at me, and I lowered my gaze, feeling my cheeks reddening. I heard multiple gasps and a loud whisper fill the air. Harry and Ron stepped in front of me and Harry said, "Leave her alone. She's a paraplegic. There's nothing wrong with her!" I was so thankful that they stood up for me. Maybe they could be my friends. Then the sneering boy spoke again. "So it's true then. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." This caused even more whispers to stir, and while I felt bad for Harry, I was glad the attention was being taken off of me. "I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." Ron snorted. "Think my name's funny, do you? I don't need to ask you. Red hair, hand-me-down robes, you must be a Weasley," Malfoy said coldly. Ron looked down. I didn't like Malfoy. He was cruel and rude. Malfoy turned back to Harry. "This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle," he said, pointing to two giant kids that stood like bodyguards. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others," he looked at Ron, "I can help you with that." Malfoy extended his hand to Harry, who said, "I think I can figure that out on my own, thanks." Malfoy glared at him, but just then Professor McGonagall reappeared. "We're ready for you now."

She lead us into the Great Hall, and everyone looked around in awe at the room. The ceiling was the clear night sky outside, and I heard Hermione talking about how it was enchanted. I was in the middle of the group, and was relatively hidden from all the older students. And oh. My. Gosh, were there ever so many students. We got to the front where all the teachers sat, and I saw Professor Snape, whom I think was looking at Harry. Then I saw an old hat on a stool. It must be the Sorting Hat. A flap in it opened and the hat started singing a song about the houses. When it was done, Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll and began calling out names. "Abbott, Hannah." Hannah sat on the stool and the hat was placed on her head. A few seconds later, it called out "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hufflepuff table clapped as she joined them. A few more people were sorted before McGonagall said, "Granger, Hermione." Hermione, who looked decidedly nervous, walked up and sat down. More than two minutes later, the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR!" Hermione smiled widely and joined the loudest cheering table. Soon, Draco Malfoy was called and before the hat had even touched his head, it called out, "SLYTHERIN!" Malfoy walked over to his table like he owned the place. And then, Professor McGonagall called, "Meryl, Adira." I took a deep breath in and started to roll up to the front, turning around to face the crowd. I heard many whispers and gasps, confused and interested looks all bearing down upon me. I was very thankful when the hat was placed on my head, covering my eyes. Then I heard a voice in my head.

 _Ah, there is much talent in you. A fierce loyalty, great ambition, eager to learn, a yearn to prove yourself. You have been through very much in your short life. Hardships your classmates will never understand. But you want more than just courage. There is a great capacity for knowledge in you. I know you'll do extremely well in_ "RAVENCLAW!" the hat shouted, and I breathed in relief. There was tumultuous applause coming from the Ravenclaw table, and I wheeled over to it. There wasn't really any place for me to go, as the table only had two benches, one on either side. But then part of the bench on one side disappeared, leaving a big enough gap for my wheelchair. I turned around, and saw Dumbledore putting his wand down. I smiled, and took my place. People congratulated me and clapped me on the back, and while it was all very overwhelming, I was happy. I watched as everyone else got sorted, and was sad to see that Harry and Ron were both in Gryffindor as well. Then, a huge feast appeared on the table, and I could only stare at the amazing work of magic and all the food for a good minute before selecting a steak and some mashed potatoes. I had a slice of treacle tart for dessert, and it was one of the best things I had ever tasted. I was soon very full, and glad when everyone started leaving.

I heard one of the Ravenclaw prefects calling, "First years, this way!" I followed the prefect along with my new classmates, who were polite enough not to stare at me. We got to a large marble staircase, and I pulled out my wand, tapping it three times on my wheelchair before pointing it upwards. I heard someone say 'Woah' but I stayed focused on making it up to the dormitories successfully. Eventually, after many twists and turns, we got to a large wooden door with an eagle on it. The prefect said, "This is the entrance to the Ravenclaw dormitories. We don't have a password, like some of the other houses. To get in, you have to answer a question. For example," the prefect paused, waiting. Then the eagle on the door said, _What can travel around the world but stays in one corner?_ The prefect said, "I guess that would have to be a stamp." The eagle nodded, and the door opened. This would be a problem. How could I get into the dormitories if I couldn't give an answer? I followed everyone else inside, and my worries about the door were forgotten as I looked around the beautiful room. There were windows everywhere, giving you a full view of the night sky. There were tables and couches neatly laid out, with enough room for me to maneuver throughout easily. In the corner stood a sculpture of a lady's head with a tiara on top. The prefect started telling us some information about Ravenclaw tower, like how it was the highest tower at Hogwarts. They showed us to our rooms, and I suddenly realised how tired I was. I got ready for bed, changing into my pajamas and crawling into bed before any of the other girls decided to get ready. I heard them introducing themselves, talking about themselves, but I was really tired. I closed my eyes, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.


	16. Chapter 15

**Hello again! I'm so sorry for not updating for so long! First I had serious writer's block, and then I went on vacation for Thanksgiving and didn't have my laptop with me. Speaking of Thanksgiving, I'm so thankful for all of you and the support you've given me! Hope you enjoy this chapter, even though it is a bit shorter than the last one. I promise to update sooner next time! Please Read and Review!**

 **Disclaimer: I still don't own any of this except for Adira**

 _I woke up slowly, an extremely painful throbbing in my head and back. My stomach growled loudly, and there was a sticky substance matted in my hair. I opened my eyes slowly, and the throbbing intensified. I was on the floor of the basement. I couldn't remember how I had gotten there. I tried to stand up, but couldn't. Something was wrong. I couldn't move my legs. I pushed myself up with my arms and willed myself not to panic. I touched my legs, but didn't feel it. I tried to point my toes, then flex them, but couldn't. I tried to bend my knees, but couldn't. Tears started to form in my eyes. My breathing began to speed up and my lower lip quivered. I didn't know what to do._

 _I was at the foot of the stairs, so I turned my upper body and started to bang on the wall as loudly as my little hand could. Minutes passed and I was about to give up hope when I heard Father yelling. I saw the door to the basement at the top of the stairs open and saw him pounding down them. I started to regret the choice I had just made. Soon, Father was bearing down upon me. I whimpered. I could smell the beer in his breath. I knew he was about to start yelling at me, hurting me. Frantically, I pointed to my legs, shaking my head back and forth, trying to show him that I couldn't move them. Tears streamed down my face. Father didn't seem to understand. He slapped me, and I stopped pointing. He told me to stand up. I couldn't. He grabbed my shoulder forcefully and I gasped in pain as I was lifted off the floor. Father let go, but my feet crumbled beneath me and I collapsed to the ground. This seemed to make Father angrier. He started yelling at me, telling me to stand, that I'd better not be faking it, or I'd pay. Again and again he forced me up, only for me to fall back the the ground._

 _Eventually, Father walked back up the stairs and out of sight, cursing under his breath. I laid on the ground and cried softly to myself, trembling. My little body hurt from falling to the ground so much, and I was scared because I didn't understand why my legs weren't working. A few minutes passed, and then Father came back downstairs. He was holding a knife. Terror filled me, and I tried to scramble away before remembering my current predicament. Father dropped to the ground beside me and covered my eyes with one hand, forcing my head back to the ground. I didn't know what he was doing until he removed his hand from my eyes. I looked down at my legs and gasped. There were large jagged cuts on top of each leg, one that went from mid-thigh to the top of my knee, and another that went from the bottom of my knee to my ankle. They weren't deep cuts, but weren't just scrapes, either. Blood trickled from them, but that wasn't what scared me the most. I was scared because I hadn't felt any of it._

I shot upwards in my bed, gasping for air. Soon my breathing slowed down, and I peeled the covers off of me before pulling up my pajama bottoms. I saw the long scars on my legs and ran my fingers over them, shuddering at the memory. I hadn't had a nightmare like that in awhile. I don't know if I had ever remembered that day as vividly as I just had.

I will never understand why Father thought that that would be the best way to check whether or not I was really faking it. I suppose he knew that only real paralysis would cause me to seem so unaffected while he cut me. I remember that he carried me out of the basement, left the house, and returned later with a cheap wheelchair. He was very mad at me for making him spend that money, and he only ever told me that I had to use the chair to get around from then on. He never explained why I couldn't feel my legs, or why it had happened.

I looked outside the window of my dormitory room. Light was just barely beginning to peak over the horizon, which meant that it was dawn. Which meant that it was about 5:00 am. All the other girls were still sound asleep. I knew that there was no chance of me going back to sleep anytime soon, so I decided to get dressed and head to the common room to read some more of my school books before breakfast. I crawled onto the ground and over to my trunk, finding my Ravenclaw robes. I climbed back onto my four poster bed and pulled the curtains shut. Many awkward minutes later, I pulled the curtains open, fully dressed for the day, and got into my wheelchair, rolling out of the dormitory. I floated down the stairs and into the common room, which had a small fire going in the fireplace. I went over to an empty table and set my book bag on top of it, taking out some parchment, ink, and a quill to write with in case anyone came down and tried to talk to me.

I had gotten through another three chapters of my Transfiguration book when I saw someone sit down at the seat across from me. She was very pretty, with silky black hair and almond eyes. She looked a little older than me, but not by much. After a few awkward moments of silence she said, "Hi, I'm Cho Chang." I smiled up at her shyly and wrote, _Hi. My name is Adira._

Cho didn't seem to be confused by my writing an answer instead of saying one. She just smiled back and said, "Nice to meet you, Adira. It's my second year here. Is it your first?" I nodded. "Sorry, but, how do you get your hair to be so long? I've been trying to grow mine out for years but nothing seems to work." I sighed in relief, having expected her to ask about my wheelchair or voice. I wrote, _Oh… nothing special. I've just never cut it in my entire life._

Cho said, "Wow, I don't know if I could do that. I think it would drive me crazy not cutting it. But maybe I'll try it. I mean, your hair is so beautiful." I smiled, blushing slightly. "So, what classes do you have today? Maybe I can give you some first-day advice." I thought back to what Professor McGonagall had told me about my schedule a few days ago and wrote, _I think I have Transfiguration and then Potions._

"Oh, that's not too bad. Transfiguration is with Professor McGonagall, so it's usually pretty fun. But she is definitely strict, so try not to talk too much or goof around. But then again, it's mostly the Gryffindors and Slytherins that do all that anyways. Potions, well, good luck. Those are with Professor Snape. Now, I'm not one to disrespect a teacher, but he can certainly be a bit rude and cruel. He's very biased. Don't expect to get any points from him. He only gives house points to Slytherins, even if they're completely wrong. And, believe me, they usually are," she huffed a little in annoyance before continuing. "But anyways, Charms is my favorite class. I've never been very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the teachers are always changing."

Just then, a girl with curly red hair walked over to the table. Cho said, "Oh, Adira, this is my friend, Marietta Edgecomb. Marietta, this is Adira. I was just telling her about some of the classes." Marietta smiled slightly and then looked down, and I saw a confused look come across her face.

"What's that thing you're sitting in?" she asked rather rudely. I didn't mind people asking about it, and I was about to write a response when Cho said, "Marietta! Don't be rude!"

"I'm not being rude, I just wanted to know what that contraption is." Marietta stated matter-of-factly. Cho shot me a sympathetic look, but I just smiled slightly and shrugged, writing _It's called a wheelchair. I'm a paraplegic, so it's how I get around._ But Marietta just seemed even more confused. "Paraplegic? What does that mean?" I wrote, _I just can't feel or move anything from my waist down._

"Why don't you talk?"

"Marietta!"

"What? I'm curious. Look, she doesn't have to tell me if she doesn't want to…" Marietta trailed off. Both her and Cho looked at me, and I wrote, _No, it's fine. I was born mute. I've never been able to make a sound. So, I write to communicate with others._

"Oh."

It was silent for a few moments until Cho said, "Hey Adira, would you like to join us for breakfast in the Great Hall?" I nodded and packed up my things, putting them in my bag which I looped around the handles of my chair so that I wouldn't have to hold it. I rolled away from the table and followed Cho and Marietta out of the common room. I was glad to be with people who knew where they were going, since I probably would have gotten lost on my own.

When we got to the first staircase of many, Cho and Marietta stopped and looked at me. Cho said, "Um, so, do you need any help getting down staircases?" I just shook my head and pulled out my wand, tapping it three times on my wheelchair before angling it downwards in the direction of the stairs. My chair rose and began floating down the stairs, and I think I heard Marietta gasp slightly.

I turned around to see Cho and Marietta still standing at the top of the stairs, seemingly awestruck with both their mouths hanging open. But my turning around seemed to snap them out of their stupor, because they immediately started following me down the stairs. "That's a really cool spell, Adira! Is it a non verbal incantation, or is your wheelchair just charmed to levitate like that when you tap it?" Cho asked curiously. I wrote, _It's charmed. A healer from St. Mungo's performed the spell so that I could get up and down stairs._

"From St. Mungo's?" Marietta questioned, reading over my shoulder. "So your parents are wizards, then?" I wrote, _My dad's a muggle and my mom's a witch, but she died when I was born._

"Oh, sorry." Marietta said quietly. I wrote, _It's fine._ I could tell that Marietta wanted to know about how someone from St. Mungo's saw me when I grew up with a muggle father. But thankfully, Cho said, "I wonder what breakfast will be today. Personally I'm hoping for pancakes or waffles. What about you Marietta?"

"I don't really care, as long as it's edible." Marietta stated, and Cho chuckled. "And you, Adira?" she asked. I just nodded my head towards Marietta, to show Cho that I felt the same way.

We finally got to the Great Hall, and I rolled to the end of the table where there was still an opening for my wheelchair. Cho sat next to me and Marietta sat across from us. It seemed that Cho had gotten her wish, as the table was filled with an assortment of both pancakes and waffles. I had never had either, and was very excited to try them. I grabbed two chocolate chip pancakes, but I didn't know how exactly you were supposed to eat them.

I watched Cho as she grabbed a waffle, put butter on it, and drizzled it with syrup. She saw me watching her and asked, "Have you ever had pancakes or waffles before?" I shook my head, and Cho gasped exaggeratedly. "Well, here, I'll show you how to eat it." She pulled another plate over to hers and placed a pancake on it. "First, you have to put butter on it," she paused, getting a slice of butter and putting it in the center of the pancake. I watched, intrigued, as the butter began to melt into the pancake, creating a little ditch in the center. "Then, you have to add a bunch of syrup," she said excitedly as she pulled the syrup over to her. She poured the syrup artistically over the pancake, letting it drizzle over the sides. "Now you can cut it up to eat it. You try now." I took my pancakes and tried to do everything as closely as possible to how Cho had done it. After putting the syrup on the pancakes, I cut it up and took a bite. It was delicious! The fluffy pancake mixed with the butter and syrup filled my mouth with warmth and taste and I knew that this was easily one of my favorite foods. Cho and Marietta watched me with amusement evident on their faces. "See, it's pretty good, right?" Cho said, smiling. I nodded enthusiastically.

I spent breakfast that morning smiling, listening to Cho and Marietta exchange jokes and talk about classes. It was such a picturesque moment for me, and I couldn't help but feel all warm inside. It was by far one of the best meals I've ever had.

 **A/N I'm thinking about adding more of Adira's flashbacks/memories into future chapters. What do you think?**


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